These Sweet Deceptions
by rejoicingrequiem
Summary: Follows one of the many kids who once lived at Wammy's House. I'm terrible at summaries. Ever so sorry. LxOC
1. Chapter 1

**[Author's Note] I'm alive! Anyone still even reading this? Sorry about neglecting this story for so long, but I'm finally picking it up again and refurbishing the chapters I'd already posted in the process. [/Author's Note]**

The children raised at Wammy's House were of a special breed; geared for high intelligence, pushed to exceed the limits of normal human reasoning. All of this was in an effort to raise the next L, make a progeny capable of taking over the role of the world's most famous detective should he meet his maker. While many of the younger generation were content to sit around and wait for their day of glory to come, those closer in age to the super sleuth were wise enough to know that they stood no chance of replacing him unless something completely unexpected happened. Those that weighed the odds of becoming the next L and did not find them to their liking were more than welcome to find suitable jobs for themselves in the real world. This was not a difficult task because, in keeping with Wammy's House tradition, all of these individuals were highly talented in fields that dealt with the arts and the sciences. This is the story of one of those individuals and how her life was forever changed by a twist of fate.

October, 2002

"A tragedy has struck England. Two Boeing 747s, both full to maximum capacity, crashed in a fiery display this afternoon in the skies above Great Scotland Yard, the former location of the Metropolitan Police Service Headquarters. It has been disclosed by Air Traffic Control that one plane completely disappeared from all monitored radars, becoming virtually invisible to those watching it. The second plane remained on the radar but deviated drastically from its scheduled flight plan. Both planes were reported to have lost communication with the control tower. More details to follow tonight-"

The large screen went black, but the group of people gathered around it continued to look on as if they were waiting for more information to pop up on the darkened screen.

"Do you think it was terrorists?" someone finally ventured.

"If it was, it was executed extremely well. Especially given how much airline security has tightened up since the terrorist attacks in America last year."

A cell phone rang from one of the assembled people's pockets and was promptly answered by a formidable man with graying hair. He didn't bother to look at the number. Only a select few people had access to his private line.

"Would I be correct in assuming that I am now speaking to Director Wellington of the Metropolitan Police Service?" asked a highly distorted voice

"Who is this?" the man asked, clearly startled by the strange invasion.

"Oh, let me see. You may call me…hm…Techno. Yes, that seems like a fitting name."

"How did you get this number?" he demanded, quickly moving from shock to a towering rage. The people around him finally began to realize that this was no ordinary call.

"That's not really all that important," the voice answered. "What is important, however, is the reason that I called you, Director Wellington. I would like to confess to a crime." He took the silence on the other end as permission to continue, pausing briefly for dramatic effect. "I orchestrated that lovely little aerial display that you just witnessed on your TV screen."

"W-what?" the Director gasped. "You actually admit to sabotaging those planes?"

"Why yes, yes I do. But I must admit, it was terribly easier than even I had imagined. It just didn't give me the rush I had been looking for."

"You're just doing this for self-gratification?" Director Wellington bellowed, shocking the few people brave enough to stay within the confines of the room.

"It sounds so vulgar when you phrase it like that," the voice reprimanded. "No, I merely enjoy challenging myself. And what better way is there to challenge myself than by pitting myself against one of the premiere police agencies in the world? It's the perfect plan, really. If you win, then you stop my plan and gain glory and fame worldwide. If I win, then the world knows that Scotland Yard is in desperate need of reform. I will supply you with the first clue. The rest are yours to find and decipher."

"Somebody trace this call!" Wellington yelled, sending people scurrying to computers.

"I don't think you'll have much luck with that," the synthetic voice laughed.

In confirmation of that boast, a frantic employee ran into the room. "We can't get a lock on it, sir. We can't trace it back to any phone in the area."

"Just remember, Director Wellington, time will illuminate your path. The clock is ticking. You have three weeks; that is until the twenty second of October. Please do keep that date in mind. The race begins tomorrow." The line went dead.

"What's going on, sir? Who was that?"

"A person claiming responsibility for the airplane collision has issued us a challenge. We have three weeks to catch him before he publicly denounces Scotland Yard. He didn't say what he would do if we failed to catch him, but I can only imagine that it will be something on an even larger scale than his previous incident."

"Did you record the call, Director?"

"Yes, of course," he responded, the fact that his phone was set to automatically record all calls momentarily slipping his mind. He set the small phone down on the table and set it to speaker phone so that those assembled could hear it.

A few minutes later, the group sat in shocked silence, amazed not only at the audacity of the caller, but also at the immensity of the situation. "Any ideas?" the Director asked of the small group.

"He said he would give us the first clue, but he didn't say anything that we could go on," a dark-haired, bespectacled man pointed out.

"Kingsley's right," agreed a blond man. "Maybe it's just some guy taking advantage of the airplane collision to jerk our chain."

A petite red-head simply continued to sit on the couch contemplatively, a lollipop stick dangling from between her lips. She was easily the youngest person in the room and preferred to keep her speculations to herself.

"Be that as it may, we cannot take a claim like this lightly," Wellington stated. "I think we should call L."

"Director Wellington, sir, I think you're going to want to see this," said a young man sitting in front of a computer screen.

The computer screen was white save for a black script 'L' emblazoned across it. "Talk about uncanny," said Kingsley.

"I would like to request the aid of the MPS of Scotland Yard in a case," stated yet another synthetic voice. "Namely, the tampering with air traffic control and the challenge against the MPS that was just announced worldwide."

"Announced worldwide? What are you talking about? We received the call just moments ago!"

"No, he's telling the truth, sir!" the blond man ascertained, turning the TV back on. The headline on every major news station worldwide was Techno's challenge to the MPS.

"What do you want us to do?" Wellington asked, turning back to the computer screen.

"I would ask that you assemble a small group of trusted individuals with highly analytical minds and send me any information you have regarding the case so far."

"Kingsley, Jameson, Quinn," Wellington called out, addressing the three who had remained for the entirety of his phone call, "come here."

The three obliged, entering the large communications room and moving to the Director's side. "Since you three were the only ones who heard the phone call from Techno, I would like you to work with L at his request. I have already sent him a recording of Techno's call. You three will carry out the investigation under his orders."

"Working with the famous L! What an honor!" Jameson exclaimed.

The three sat clustered around a laptop in an isolated room of the MPS building, waiting for L's instructions. Rather than send the entirety of Scotland Yard into a panic, it was decided that they would work on the case away from their co-workers, not only to allow them the peace they needed to think, but also to ensure that no information left their small group.

"Incoming," Jameson said, pointing out the obvious as the computer screen assumed its monochrome appearance.

"I would like to thank the three of you for devoting yourselves to this investigation," the distorted voice began. "Now if you would be so kind as to introduce yourselves…"

"Terrance Jameson."

"Blake Kingsley."

"Lainie Quinn."

"Very good. Now then, concerning the recorded phone call. Am I correct in assuming that you three have heard it in its entirety?"

"Yes, of course," Jameson answered. "That's why we were put on this case."

"In that case I would very much like to hear your thoughts regarding it."

The two men sat silently, both still convinced that Techno had neglected to leave them a clue. Lainie, however, had a different idea. "The next clue will be revealed at Big Ben at 10:10 tomorrow evening," she stated, removing the lollipop from her mouth.

"Interesting," the voice crackled, betraying neither approval not rejection of the theory. "I would like to hear your reasoning behind that, and I'm sure that your companions would as well."

"Techno said that he would give us the first clue," she began, brushing a strand of red hair out of her eyes. "Since he is treating this as a game and assuming us to be terribly outmatched, it would stand to reason that the first clue would be something obvious that led to increasingly difficult riddles to solve. Viewing it like that, anything said before he stated that he would give us the first clue can be disregarded as irrelevant in terms of leading us to the second clue. That leaves very little to analyze. 'Time will illuminate your path,' and 'the clock is ticking.' Both sentences would, if left alone, seem like simple reminders that time is of the essence in solving this case. However, if subjected to further scrutiny, they would point quite obviously to the largest illuminated timepiece in London, Big Ben."

Her two companions gaped, but the voice from the computer seemed unfazed. "Yes, I had come to that conclusion as well. But how did you stumble upon the time of 10:10 pm?"

"He made it a point to emphasize the date right after mentioning the clock. Three weeks from now, the date will be October twenty second. Rather than state it like that, though, he said it backwards, the twenty second of October. If written numerically, that would be expressed as 22-10 rather than the usual 10-22. Military time of 2210 would be 10:10 pm standard time. Of course, this could merely be speculation on my part."

"I believe your theory could be correct, Miss Quinn," the voice finally stated, causing the smallest smile of satisfaction to grace Lainie's lips. "Now that we have established the time and location for the appearance of the second clue, I would ask that the three of you keep Big Ben under surveillance all day tomorrow. It is quite early in the game yet, but if we can catch the perpetrator in the act, all the better for us. Now listen carefully…"


	2. Chapter 2

A young couple sat on a bench facing Big Ben, the most famous timepiece in all of London. The man, who looked to be in his late twenties, had his arm slung around his female companion's shoulder. The woman had the hood of her sweater pulled low over her face, presumably against the chill October air. At a quick glance, they seemed like a love struck couple taking a peaceful break from the hustle and bustle of sightseeing to relax and admire the famed clock. The only thing that ruined this perceived image was the fact that the woman's attention was focused solely on the laptop resting across her knees.

"You know, Lainie, we're supposed to be on a date," Kingsley said with a sigh. "How many girls on dates sit around playing with their laptops? I mean really, we've been here for over four hours and all you've done is mess around with your computer."

"I'm sorry," she said, shutting her laptop and stowing it safely inside her bag. "I don't get out much, you know?"

"It's alright," he assured her, arm dropping to encircle her more securely as she rested her head against his shoulder.

Truth be told, Lainie didn't mind being here with Kingsley, even if it was just for the sake of the case they were working on. Being a computer whiz, it made sense that she spent more time around computers and other electronics than other people. That's what her position with the Metropolitan Police Service entailed so that's what she focused her time and energies on. She barely talked to others, particularly at work where her eyes were constantly glued to the computer screen. Her time away from work was often times spent working with her own laptop or experimenting with new gadgets. Perhaps it was just a coincidence, but the lack of social skills tended to be a trend among the former and current occupants of Wammy's House. That aside, however, Lainie certainly didn't mind acting like her handsome compatriot's girlfriend and given his actions, it would stand to reason that he felt the same.

Speculations aside, the objective of their little act today was to look as casual as possible while keeping their eyes open for Techno or anyone who might be acting under his orders. Lainie and Kingsley were to keep an eye on each face of the clock in intervals, moving around at different times so as not to attract too much attention. Jameson was posing as a photographer, taking pictures of anyone who appeared even the least bit suspicious.

"That guy has been watching us for awhile now," Kingsley observed, discreetly motioning to a man standing in the shade of the enormous clock tower. He was too far away to make out any details, but he certainly looked like the shady type that they were watching for. "I don't like the way he's looking at us, Lainie. Let's move over to one of the other clock faces for a bit."

The two walked around the perimeter of the area to the next clock face hand in hand, keeping a close eye out for any other suspicious figures. "How about I go get us some drinks?" Kingsley suggested once they had settled themselves on an unoccupied bench.

"That sounds great," she agreed. "Just be careful, though, alright?" she added in an undertone. "We really don't know what this man is capable of."

"Right," he agreed, starting to rise to his feet. "But before I go-" his face dipped close to hers as his lips brushed against her cheek. "I'll tell Jameson to keep an eye for that guy we saw earlier," he whispered. "Try and get in contact with L." His breath tickled her face until he pulled away and headed off to get their drinks with a jovial smile. Lainie's face flushed a vibrant red, clashing beautifully with her fiery hair.

Kingsley hadn't been gone longer than a few minutes when a long shadow fell across the ground at Lainie's feet. "May I sit here, Miss?" he asked, not bothering to wait for an answer before taking a seat beside her on the bench. "I've been on my feet all day and I'm not used to being out this much."

Lainie was instantly on her guard. The man, who upon further inspection looked younger than she had anticipated, had unkempt black hair and black smudges beneath his eyes. It looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep in ages. He was simply dressed in a plain white shirt and faded blue jeans. His sockless feet were crammed into battered sneakers. If she had to wager a guess, she'd say that he appeared to be about twenty-two. It was the same man that had been observing them from the shadow of the clock tower. The odds of him just happening upon her when she was alone were too low to even be taken into account. "Sir, I don't mean to be rude but-"

"You're absolutely right," he agreed, nodding his head. "How rude of me. I didn't introduce myself. You may call me Ryuzaki," he said, looking at her expectantly.

"Lute," she returned, the old Wammy's House nickname rolling off of her tongue unbidden. She paused for a minute, wondering why after so many years her old nickname had suddenly popped into her head. She certainly hadn't planned to tell the man that her name was Lute, and yet the fact remained that she had done just that. In retrospect, however, she deemed it acceptable. If this man was the person they were after, it wouldn't do for him to have her real name.

"I see. I'm not familiar with this area," he said, continuing where he had left off. "I was wondering. If I were to look directly across the Thames in the direction that this face of Big Ben looks, what would I see?"

Lainie turned to look in the direction the young man was indicating. "The Millennium Wheel," she answered, eyes landing on the large structure.

"How interesting," he commented, sounding as though he felt just the opposite. "But that seems a bit outdated now that the new millennium has already come. Does it have any other names?"

Before she could react to his question, a second shadow fell across the ground at her feet. "Can I help you, sir?" Kingsley asked with a slight edge to his voice.

"Oh no," Ryuzaki assured him, rising to his feet. "I was merely talking to this young lady here. I'll be on my way now." With that he shuffled away with his hands buried in his pockets.

"You shouldn't talk to people like that, Lainie," Kingsley reprimanded, handing her a cup of hot tea. "It's dangerous to be with someone like that alone."

"I'm a big girl, Kingsley," she returned, not appreciating being treated like a child. "If anything had gone wrong, I could have taken care of myself." She patted her bag which concealed a small handgun.

"What did he want?" Kingsley asked, changing the subject to avoid an argument.

"He was asking about the Millennium Wheel and then you came back. That was it."

"Just be careful, alright?" he pleaded, resuming his position beside her. She nodded before taking a sip of her tea and leaning back to wait until the assigned time.

The rest of the time passed without event and night rolled in, bringing a light fog and even cooler temperatures with it. The strange Ryuzaki had not made a second appearance and no other suspicious characters had been observed. The clock struck ten and the three MPS agents were instantly on their guard, one to each of the three accessible faces of Big Ben, eyes darting at every shadow and sound. Everything was quiet around the now deserted tourist attraction, causing even the slightest of sounds to seem like the booming of a cannon.

The abrupt ringing of her cell phone caused Lainie to nearly jump out of her skin. "Hello?" she asked, flipping it open and holding it to her ear.

"Quinn? This is Director Wellington. Techno just sent in a hint regarding the first clue. 'The face is nothing without an eye to see from.' I notified L and he asked that I send the information to you, as well."

"Thank you, Director, I'll see what I can make of it," she said snapping the phone shut.

Before she could spend too much time puzzling over what Director Wellington had said, the clock struck 10:10 on the dot…and nothing happened. To rephrase, nothing happened that Lainie could see. The fact that her cell phone began ringing again, however, was proof that things were far from normal at her companions' viewpoints.

"Quinn!" It was Jameson. "The clock faces have all gone dark! Both mine and Kingsley's are completely black."

"What? But mine's still lit…"

Her voice trailed off as all of the clues replayed themselves in her head. 'Time will illuminate the path.' Only the clock face that she was watching remained lit. Where did that beam of light point? She turned to trace the light's path. It glowed across the Thames River, dancing over the water. That could lead to any number of locations, however. 'The face is nothing without the eye.' That was the last clue to be received from Techno, but what could it point to?

It was then that Ryuzaki's seemingly pointless questions forced themselves into her thoughts. The Millennium Wheel. That was it! It was also called the London Eye!

"Quinn, what's wrong?" Jameson asked, concerned by the silence on her end of the line.

She didn't even hear the question as she snapped her phone shut and took off in the direction of the giant wheel. Her sneakers pounded against the ground, carrying her towards what she was positive was the next clue to catching Techno. The largest obstacle that stood in her way right now was the bridge that separated Big Ben from the Millennium Wheel. Before her common sense could catch up to her, she uttered a quick wish for luck and struck out on a suicide sprint across the traffic heavy bridge. Several exhausting, car dodging moments later, Lainie stood staring up at the then largest Ferris wheel in the world. Given the late hour, there was barely any line to board the lauded tourist attraction, which was all the better for the hurried Lainie.

"It's mighty deserted tonight," the attendant commented, ushering the red-head into a car with just one other person. Given the capacity of these cars-they were rated to carry about twenty-five people each-Lainie figured that she could seat herself at the complete opposite end of the car from her companion and focus all of her attention on figuring out Techno's next move. Her vision of searching for the next clue in peace from atop the Millennium Wheel was shattered, however, once the door shut and the carriage began its circuit.

"It certainly is a nice night for a Ferris wheel ride, don't you think?"

The deep, calm voice coming from right by her ear nearly gave Lainie a heart attack. As it was, she jumped in surprise. "Ryuzaki, what are you doing here?" she cried, instantly on the defensive as she turned to face the man's wide and staring eyes.

"I just wanted to ride the Millennium Wheel. It would be rather odd for me to ask you about it and then not come see it for myself," he answered, looking at her in what was obviously supposed to be an innocent manner. She almost would have bought it, too, if it hadn't been his questions earlier in the day that had led her to the London Eye. Right now, he was the prime suspect in Lainie's eyes. "It seems we've stopped," Ryuzaki observed, breaking Lainie out of her thoughts.

Lainie let out a loud sigh which quickly turned into a squeak of protest as the once brightly lit cabin went dark. She was absolutely petrified of the dark. One could never tell what might be hiding just out of sight when the lights went out.

"There, there," Ryuzaki said, patting the top of her head, "there's nothing to be afraid of in the dark." While he most likely meant the gesture to be reassuring, the spooked red-head did not appreciate being patronized by the oddball man. The unexpected gesture combined with the buzzing of her cell phone against her hip caused Lainie to jump in surprise.

The voice exploded in her ears as soon as she opened the phone. "Quinn, where the bloody hell are you?" It was Jameson.

"Don't yell at her!" broke in a second voice. "Lainie, are you alright? Where are you?" That would be Kingsley.

"I'm on the Millennium Wheel," she replied, keeping her answer as short as possible so as not to arouse Ryuzaki's suspicions. "I'm fine, really. I'm sorry I ran off like that, but I'll be home soon." She clicked her phone shut before they started asking questions. If Ryuzaki had been listening to her conversation, which she was fairly certain he was, then it would sound like a simple conversation between friends or family members.

"I don't mean to intrude," Ryuzaki said, startling her once again by his proximity, "but could you please shut off your cell phone? Or at least close it and get rid of that light?"

"Why would I want to get rid of the light?" she asked, immediately worried about his want for darkness. He could be planning anything.

"There's something written on the ceiling, but I can't see it when there's light in here," he explained matter-of-factly.

Lainie looked at him skeptically but snapped her phone shut nonetheless. The writing he claimed to have seen might be the clue she was looking for. The sight that met her eyes was dismaying, however. When Ryuzaki had said something was written on the ceiling, she had expected a message which, if it didn't point directly toward Techno's next clue, at least hinted at it. Instead, the 'message' consisted nothing more than a string of numbers scrawled haphazardly across the metal surface.

"Some message," Lainie huffed, annoyed at the seemingly pointless graffiti. Still, it could have some significance later on so it was best not to simply ignore it. Bearing that thought in mind, Lainie lay down with her back against the floor and opened her phone face down so as to avoid making the message disappear again. Once she positioned herself beneath the glowing numbers, she snapped a picture with her camera phone, which thankfully didn't use a flash. She repeated three more times, taking photos of it from all four compass points.

As soon as she had snapped the last photo, the lights flared back to life, having a blinding effect on the two who had been sitting in the dark for so long.

Lainie couldn't help but feel that it was more than a mere coincidence that the Millennium Wheel started working again once she had finished. That would suggest that whoever had been behind the Wheel's shutting down to begin with had been observing her the entire time. Of course, that left only one person: Ryuzaki.


	3. Chapter 3

Lainie let out a loud yawn and stretched, trying to work out the kinks that had worked their way into her limbs as she sat hunched over her laptop. It had been four days since the incident on the Millennium Wheel and she still hadn't made any progress in decoding Techno's message. Kingsley and Jameson had been of no help whatsoever, either. She had even sent the photographs she had taken to L, but he hadn't gotten back to her. Apparently, he was leaving all of the grunt work up to the three detectives from Scotland Yard.

This case was going to drive her insane, she just knew it. She hadn't slept more than five hours since her fateful Ferris wheel ride and was keeping herself going with mass amounts of caffeine and sheer willpower. The lack of sleep was beginning to take its toll on her, however. She would be sitting up at work and talking to one of the others working on the case one minute, only to find them staring at her moments later and realize that she had nodded off. Her weariness was affecting her performance at work, but there was nothing she could do about it. She tried to get to sleep every night, she really did. But she would fall asleep for an hour or two only to wake up because those glowing numbers kept haunting her dreams. It was obvious that she was missing something vitally important about them, but she just couldn't put her finger on it.

She turned her attention back to her laptop. Maybe a game of online chess would help to take her mind off the case. The game set-up itself loaded quickly-she had nothing but the best software on her computer-but locating another live player could take awhile. No opponent found. She let out a sigh and hit the continue search button before making her way to the kitchen and grabbing a half-empty carton of cigarettes. Before she could even flip one out of the carton, the doorbell rang.

Lainie silently cursed her apparent inability to get a moment's respite as she tossed the carton in the closest cabinet. Her streak of bad luck was further confirmed when she opened the door to find Kingsley standing expectantly on her doorstep. "What are you doing here?" she questioned, blinking her eyes wearily in confusion.

"I was worried about you," he confessed, looking at the red head in concern. "You've been dead on your feet at work lately. We can't have the only detective who has a clue as to what's going on falling apart now, can we?"

"If I had a clue as to what was going on, I wouldn't be so sleep deprived," she grumbled, stifling a rather large yawn.

He just sighed and shook his head, letting himself the rest of the way in. Once he was inside, he shut the door and focused his eyes on the young woman before him. She was still wearing the tank top and shorts she had worn to bed. Her curly red hair was tousled and fell messily around her face and her normally bright green eyes were dull and marred by deep purple smudges beneath them."Look at you, Lainie. You're a mess. How much sleep have you gotten these past few days?" he asked, worry evident in his voice.

"Only a few hours' worth," she admitted, allowing herself to be led to the couch. "The Techno case has been keeping me up."

"There's a fine line between being dedicated to the case and killing yourself over it," Kingsley admonished with a shake of his head. Lainie absent-mindedly reached for her still open laptop, only to have it shut before she could get a good look at the now flashing screen. "You need to find something to take your mind off of it." She was about to retort that she had been about to do just that until he closed her computer, but decided against it. She knew he meant well.

"You know," he began, walking into her kitchen to make two cups of tea, "I can't help but wonder what L looks like. I mean, every member of every police agency in the world has heard of him. We're even working with him now! But no one has even the smallest idea of what he looks like. How can someone who's known throughout the world be such a complete and total mystery?"

"It really works to his benefit when you think about it, though. If people knew what he looked like, he would lose that aura of mystery. I mean, if he were an intimidating looking guy, that'd be fine. But what if he's dorky looking? He wouldn't be able to command nearly the amount of respect that he does now."

"I suppose that's a valid point."

"Plus, L is responsible for handling some of the highest profile cases in the world. You'd have to imagine that the man's made quite a few enemies. If you were him, would you really want them to know your face? He holds more sway over world affairs than any other person on the planet. He would never get a moment's peace if everyone knew his face."

"It sure sounds like you've given this an awful lot of thought," Kingsley replied, grabbing two bags of Earl Grey.

"I just really look up to him, that's all!" she replied with a forced laugh. "I wish I could be even half as amazing as the great L," she sighed. "That's part of why I'm putting so much effort into this case. I want to impress him."

He didn't say anything more as he went about making the tea. Kingsley broke the silence, however, when he came upon a small white carton in the cabinet as he rummaged for teacups. "Lainie, what are these?" he asked, sounding very much like a parent reprimanded a child.

"Cigarettes," she mumbled, looking very much like a kid with their hand caught in the cookie jar.

"And why exactly do you have cigarettes lying around?"

"It's an old habit. I barely smoke anymore, but sometimes when I'm under a lot of stress I can't help it."

He just sighed before going back to pouring the tea. "Really, Lainie, you need to stop messing with that computer of yours," Kingsley scolded as he brought the tea over. In his brief absence, Lainie had reopened attempted to surreptitiously return to her chess game.

"I was just in the middle of a game of online chess, that's all." She smiled awkwardly as she reluctantly closed the computer lid again.

"Online chess?" he asked rather skeptically as he handed her a cup of tea. "You spend way too much time on the computer, Lainie. One of these days you're going to start speaking in binary!" He laughed at his joke, but Lainie fell deathly quiet, her eyes sliding out of focus. "Lainie?" he asked, waving a hand in front of her face. No response. "Earth to Lainie!" he said, gently shaking her shoulders.

"Binary…why didn't I think of that? It's so painfully obvious now. The answer was there the entire time, right in front of me, and I didn't even see it. It might not be too late, though!"

She hurriedly began searching for her cell phone, finally extracting it from her purse. She quickly flipped it open and connected it to her laptop, bringing the four pictures up on the larger screen. A few keystrokes later and the laptop began whirring as it went about converting the binary message into standard Roman letters.

"They're scrambled," Lainie stated, beginning to write down the letters in order to make coherent phrases. "Three of them say the exact same thing," she muttered, crossing out letters here and there. "The fourth one is the only one that's different. It says 'It's time to depart; we've only been waiting six days. We never travel in the morning. Hope we beat the boat.'"

"What do the first three say?" Kingsley asked curiously, leaning over to look at the paper she had been writing on. "Find the hidden message?" he asked, thinking he had misread it.

"Exactly. That's exactly what I did. I thought maybe the first one indicated to find the message hidden in the next three, but the two that followed it said the exact same thing. The last message alone isn't enough to pinpoint a location from." Lainie let out a heavy sigh, returning her gaze to the original photographs. "Maybe I missed something that night. There had to have been something else that I didn't pick up on that related to this."

"You did your best, Lainie," Kingsley consoled, earning himself an aggravated glare from the red head. "I didn't mean it like that!" he said hurriedly, quickly realizing his mistake. "I just meant that maybe this is as far as we can go with it and now it needs to be handed over to L. You still did way better than Jameson and me."

"Whatever," she mumbled, dejectedly burying her face in her hands. Kingsley looked on worriedly. Being upset he could understand, but Lainie's reaction went far beyond normal. She was acting like someone who was personally invested in a case, which just didn't add up.

"Look, I'll tell you what. Tomorrow, all three of us will take a look at that message and see if we can come up with something. But I want you to promise me that once I leave you'll stop with the frustrated detective routine and get some sleep. We can call L and tell him what you found out at work tomorrow. Just give it a rest for tonight, alright?"

Lainie gave a noncommittal grunt, not even breaking her trancelike state when Kingsley bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "See you tomorrow, Lainie. Make sure you get some rest," he advised, closing the front door behind him as he left.

A few moments after the door clicked shut, Lainie roused herself from her pathetic position on the couch and made her way into the small kitchen, silently cursing Kingsley when she discovered that her open pack of cigarettes was gone. She rummaged around in the drawers for a new carton and promptly lit one up after stepping outside. She may smoke on occasion, but that didn't mean she wanted her entire flat reeking of the clingy odor.

_Find the hidden message,_ she mused, allowing the letters to float through her already muddled mind. _What am I missing?_

Perhaps she needed a break from the frustrating topic like Kingsley had suggested. Her mind flitted back to the earlier question of the mysterious L's appearance.

When she pictured the mysterious L, she imagined someone tall, dark and handsome; the cookie-cutter mold that all those movie spies and detectives were cut from. In her mind, he defined the terms suave and debonair. If he didn't fit her perfect image exactly, that was fine. The fact that he was L, her childhood hero and adulthood aspiration, was enough for her. But what if he was just the opposite? Everyone would expect him to be this powerful, intimidating figure. What better way was there for him to hide in plain sight than to defy everyone's expectations for him?

Lainie closed her eyes as she took a deep drag on her cigarette, putting all of her formidable mental capacities to the task of conjuring up the total opposite of her ideal image of L. Tall? Give him a perpetual hunch. Dark? Cue pasty skin. Handsome? Throw in some questionable grooming habits. Her mental picture bore a disconcerting resemblance to Ryuzaki, which quickly derailed the stress therapy.

She tried to play it off as stress induced paranoia, but the more she thought about it, the more sense it started to make. Ryuzaki had been a guiding force behind all of the revelations that day at Big Ben. Her gut instinct had been that he was Techno, but what kind of criminal, no matter how cocky and self-assured, risked exposing himself that blatantly? It made more sense to assume that L, whose face was unknown and could freely mingle without fear of being exposed, was personally keeping tabs on the case rather than leaving something so touchy to the police.

Lainie took another puff of her cigarette to clear her mind and let out a slow stream of smoke, hoping that her unsettled feelings would go disperse with it. She opened her laptop and turned her attention back to the chess game that she had started hours earlier. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the fact that two of the pawns, both hers and her opponents, had been moved along with one of her knights despite the fact that she hadn't touched the game since searching for an opponent. A small pop-up appeared, momentarily distracting her with a message from her opponent.

"Little Lute, isn't it amazing how many people think the pawns are just there to get in the way and can be cast aside with no further thought? I assure you, I use all of my pieces to their utmost. Techno."

Her eyes locked onto the pawns scattered across the virtual chessboard. G-5, that was Techno's pawn, and H-4, Lainie's pawn. Her knight was on D-6.

Lainie's mind whirred, going into overdrive. He had warned her not to disregard that which might at first appear useless and disposable. Then the extra letters she had discarded in decoding Techno's binary messages…

She called up the scrambled messages on her laptop once again, deleting the letters that spelled out 'find the hidden message.' A few letter juggling minutes later and she stood staring at the computer screen in shock, not even noticing when her burned out cigarette fell from between her lips.

The ringing of her cell phone brought her back to reality. Her fingers began typing information into her laptop at a furious rate as she flipped open the phone.

"You have news for me, Miss Quinn?" asked a highly distorted voice from her cell phone.

"I've narrowed Techno's next appearance down to three airports in the London area. I've already taken the liberty of sending you the messages, both the originals and the decoded ones, along with a screenshot of my chess game and the message that accompanied it."

There was a pause while L presumably looked over the aforementioned files and made his own analysis of them. "I would very much like to hear your take on this, Miss Quinn," he finally stated.

"Of course," she complied, knowing that he would request that. "Once I converted the binary messages to the Roman alphabet, I looked for any obvious message hidden in them and found four, three of which were identical, that were enclosed in the email I sent to you. A while after that I returned to the online chess game that I had started earlier in the evening only to the set up that was pictured in the screenshot. I did not move either of my pieces, they were like that when I opened up the screen. The message, which you also received, mentioned seemingly disposable pieces. The only thing I could think of that that could refer to was the letters I had discarded in unscrambling Techno's messages. Sure enough, the eliminated letters spelled out the names of three London airports when rearranged: Gatwick, Heathrow and Luton. The positions of the two pawns, G-5 and H-4, would then correspond to Gatwick and Heathrow airports and the time that Techno will presumably reveal his next clue."

She paused for a moment, allowing her procedures to be processed by the illustrious detective.

"Very well, continue."

"Obviously, there is no 'L' position on a chessboard."

"What a shame," commented the voice, failing to capture what Lainie was sure was sarcasm with its digital tones.

"Anyway," she continued, suppressing a laugh, "the next part was a bit more difficult because, as I just stated, there is no 'L' position to correspond to Luton Airport. That threw me for a minute and made me wonder if the other two hadn't just been coincidences. If you will notice, however, the two pawns were at a stalemate of sorts with one another, leaving both sides basically equal in terms of piece positions on the board. However, the knight then comes into play as a decisive piece for the white side. It is in position to capture the king and win the battle on our end. And what shape does the knight make when it moves?"

"An L." The response came almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for her to ask that very question.

"Exactly. However, I'm still unsure if the time should be read as 6 pm, the starting position, or 8 pm, the ending position. It just means we have to be at Luton assuming that the time is 6 pm and wait it out."

"Couldn't it just as easily be 6 am?"

"No," Lainie argued, firm in her conviction. "The fourth message clearly states that Techno meant these to be afternoon or evening hours six days from now."

"I see. I agree with your reasoning. We will formulate plans tomorrow when the other two members are present."

"Very well then. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

"Oh, and Miss Quinn? I would have you know that the security systems on my computer won't be broken into so easily."

"No, of course not," she murmured, sounding the part of a contrite, albeit disappointed, detective.

It had been a long shot, but she had attached a homemade virus to the email she had sent L containing the case files. She knew that his personal computer would be well protected and would detect any unusual attachments or files that were sent his way. One could never be too careful, after all. If hacking into his computer had been her sole objective, she would have been sorely disappointed. The ruse had worked, however, and she had never been more pleased with herself in her entire twenty years of life. She was going to find him using the tracker embedded in that virus and determine once and for all if Ryuzaki was friend or foe.


	4. Chapter 4

"I still can't get over how you figured that out, Lainie!" Kingsley proclaimed, giving Lainie a good-natured pat on the back Well, good-natured may have been a bit of an understatement as his hand lingered a bit longer than was necessary. "I knew that if anyone was going to figure it out, it would be you."

"Would you knock it off already, Kingsley?" Jameson said with a stern glance. It had been two days since L had announced Lainie's discovery and his plan to the two other team members. Kingsley had been singing Lainie's praises and finding opportunities to innocently touch her as often as possible and it was beginning to grate on Jameson's nerves.

"What, I can't congratulate Lainie in the office?" he asked, turning his gaze from Lainie to the blond man.

"If you were simply congratulating her, it would have been over and done with two days ago. I would think the fact that she's not responding to any of your advances should tell you to back off. Besides, she's way too young for you."

"It's only a seven year difference," Kingsley stated defensively. "Plus, she's really mature for her age. That makes up for it."

"Oh please. Being mature doesn't make up for the fact that she's only twenty and you're twenty-seven. Besides, she's obviously not interested in anything but the case right now. Let's face it; we'd be sunk without her help. If you distract her from working on the Techno case, who's going to solve all those bloody riddles? You?" His tone was blatantly skeptical and mocking.

By this point, the two men were glaring daggers over Lainie's head, making her feel extremely uncomfortable, especially as she was the main reason for the argument. "You know what, guys? I think I'm going to head home for the day. We don't have anything else to work on right now and I'm beat. I'll see you both tomorrow!" With that said, she extricated herself from the arm that had surreptitiously worked its way around her waist and headed out into the welcome late autumn sun.

She quickly located and entered her car and sat back in the seat with a sigh. It was so wonderfully quiet and she was grateful for that. While Kingsley's sudden attentions were not entirely unwelcome, their abrupt onset and unceasing continuation were a bit of a nuisance in the office. Not only did they lead to constant commentary and the occasional dirty look from Jameson, but they were also a huge distraction to making any productive headway on the case. At least in her car, she was safe from forward advances and speculative office conversations.

Lainie was the proud owner of a lime green and black Lamborghini Gallardo SE, her one guilty pleasure in life. She revved the engine and made her way to her house, stepping inside only long enough to change out of her work clothes and into something more casual before getting back into her car. She was a woman on a mission and she didn't want to draw undue attention to herself.

After a full half an hour of driving, she brought her car to a stop in front of a large hotel. She pulled a small piece of paper out of her purse and double-checked the address, nodding to herself in satisfaction. This was the place. She pulled up the hood of her jacket and walked inside.

"Hello, ma'am?" she asked, stepping up to the desk in the lobby. She raised her head from her book to acknowledge the red head. Lainie noted with glee that it was some sappy romance novel. "My boyfriend checked in here a while ago but I was away. He doesn't know I'm back in town yet and I wanted to surprise him. It's been ever so long since we've seen each other. That and…" she allowed a small pause for dramatic effect, "we didn't part on the best of terms before and I want to make up with him. I miss him so much!" Her voice quivered with emotion at that last statement, causing the already emotional woman at the desk to begin crying in sympathy.

"What's his name, sweetie?" the woman asked, dabbing at her eyes. "I'll tell you what room he's in and give you an extra key."

"R-ryuzaki," Lainie sobbed.

"Ryuzaki," the woman murmured, looking through the clientele log. Lainie crossed her fingers behind her back. "Here he is! Room 1031. Here you go, dear," she said, handing Lainie a small plastic keycard. "It's on the top floor. You can use that elevator right over there."

"Thank you, ma'am," Lainie said, managing a shaky smile.

"Good luck, darling!" the woman called tremulously as Lainie entered the elevator.

The doors slid shut silently, allowing Lainie the privacy to wipe the crocodile tears from her cheeks and eyes. That had been way too easy. She had really lucked out, getting a romance obsessed woman like that as the desk clerk. And getting a key to his room! She hadn't even considered that as a possibility. The best she had been hoping for was just to see if L was registered as Ryuzaki and was still in the hotel. Things were going better than she could have hoped for!

The door to room 1031 swung open easily and Lainie pocketed the keycard before stepping inside. The lavish room showed signs that it had been inhabited until recently but, to her dismay, it was completely devoid of human inhabitants. The large window was open, allowing a cool autumn breeze to blow the curtains about. The trashcans were full to the brim with sweets wrappers and empty sugar packets. The refrigerator was host to a score of cakes and cream puffs, all reeking of future diabetes. It seemed like this man ate nothing but sugary sweets!

Lainie let out a sigh. Apart from discovering that L had some seriously strange eating habits, she hadn't found anything. Not a single goddamn thing. What a complete and total waste. She was on her way back out the door when something brushed against her leg. She whipped around in alarm only to find a piece of paper attacking her ankle, probably blown her way by the breeze from the open window. She almost tossed it in the trash with the candy wrappers, but something-call it a woman's intuition, well honed detective skills, or just plain old dumb luck-stopped her. The chicken-scratch message shocked her beyond belief.

"Miss Quinn,

Did you really think I would fall for that? I'm not the world's greatest detective for nothing. We will have to discuss your most unprofessional behavior.

L"

As if on cue, her cell phone rang.

"Miss Quinn."

"L," she returned. "If it's within my rights to ask, where are the cameras?"

"Everywhere." She nodded. It had been far too easy to not have been a set-up. She should have seen it coming, should have been more careful in entering the ritzy hotel room.

"So…am I under arrest?" Lainie asked, eying possible escape routes from the room. The fact that she was currently on the tenth floor was severely limiting her options. She may be a member of the MPS, but she was a techie. She definitely wasn't equipped for a ten story plummet.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line. "I see no need to have you arrested for failing to trace my computer. You keep doing your job and I'll continue to do mine. I'll expect a report of what happens at the airports. That will be all for now." The line went dead, leaving Lainie standing in the abandoned hotel room in silence.

She contained herself all the way down to the lobby, ignoring the desk clerk's excited questions as she passed. She rode back to the Metropolitan Police Service Headquarters at Scotland Yard in complete silence, not even turning on the radio or the stereo. She didn't say a word to any of the people who greeted her as she entered the building, didn't return a single friendly nod or wave as she made her way to the tech department and rummaged through the contents of the room until she found what she was looking for and made her way back out to her car.

Fifteen patience testing minutes later she stood outside her car with a pile of discovered and removed electronics at her feet. Seventeen cameras and five microphones, and that was just her car. Debugging her flat was going to take hours. She let out a strained sigh as she threw the bug sweeper in the back of her Lamborghini before speeding to her house.

The task was a grueling one, lasting several exhausting hours until Lainie was certain that every last bug and camera was removed from her home. There had been one hundred fifty three cameras in all, an indecent amount being found in the bathroom. Most of the cameras and microphones were the same as those she had removed from her car hours before, but a number of them were of a completely different make. It seems L was not the only person who had been keeping tabs on her. If her assumptions were correct, and they usually were when it came to analytical thinking, then the second set of cameras had been placed there by Techno. She didn't know how or when, but it certainly made a few things fall into place in her mind.

It finally made sense now how L had happened to call her almost as soon as she had decoded Techno's binary message; how Techno's message had appeared once she was alone with her computer; how Ryuzaki had known to approach her that first day by Big Ben.

Bearing those thoughts in mind, Lainie loaded the bug sweeper back into her car and drove to both Jameson's and Kingsley's houses, explaining her sudden appearance by telling them about the bugs in her own home and the fact that their houses had most likely been wired as well.

The sweeps of their homes took a surprisingly short amount of time compared to how long she had spent cleaning out her house. What shocked her the most however, well, sent her into a trembling combination of rage and nervousness, actually, was that none of the cameras in her coworkers' homes belonged to L. She was the only one who had been under constant surveillance from the illustrious detective. That realization paired with the newfound knowledge that Ryuzaki was L chilled her and could only mean one thing.

L considered her a prime suspect of this case. He suspected that she either was, or was working in collaboration with, Techno.


	5. Chapter 5

Evening was beginning to roll in, coloring the clouds with dark purples and reds as the sun made its descent over Luton Airport. Nothing out of the ordinary was in sight as an unmarked black car rolled to a stop in front of it and parked, clearly in violation of airport parking policies. A member of airport security was immediately on the scene as a young woman stepped from the driver's seat of the car, making it clear that she intended to leave her vehicle where it was.

"I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to ask you to move, ma'am," he stated, maintaining a polite tone. "You're in a no parking zone and we can't have this area blocked in case of emergencies."

The red head searched through her purse until she found what she was looking for and pulled out a small leather wallet. She flipped it open and presented it to the security guard, looking cool as a cucumber as his face blanched at the sight of the MPS badge.

Today was the day; Lainie's one big shot to beat L to Techno. She had to step up her game to the highest level because she was certain L would be doing the same. If she didn't prove herself to be not only innocent but also a superb agent today, then it was all over.

Fortunately, she had been able to convince Kingsley and Jameson to let her go to Luton Airport while they handled Gatwick and Heathrow, which were the larger two of the three. She was firmly convinced that, despite being less well known and smaller than the other two, Luton would be the key element in today's mission.

Lainie flipped her sunglasses to the top of her head as she entered the busy airport, receiving many an odd glance for her official looking attire. Of course, it wasn't very often that you saw a woman walking around in a black suit and tie. As much as she disliked it, the conspicuous outfit was a necessity if she was going to bypass all of the airport's security and check-ins quickly. She could flash her badge all she liked, but the odds of someone believing that a twenty year old in jeans and a sweatshirt was a member of the Metropolitan Police Service were low and she didn't have time to waste with pointless questioning.

Thankfully, everything went as planned and she was able to circumvent the metal detectors. Oh, the fiasco going through one of them would have created! With the terrorist threat warning at its highest level, it would have been hard for even an MPS agent to get into the airport with a loaded handgun.

She checked the watch she wore on her right wrist as she stepped into the terminal. 5:55 pm. Five minutes until show time. She allowed her eyes to travel around the crowded terminal. Unsuspecting people were waiting for their flights, some walking around to stretch their legs while others sat and read the paper or books they had brought with them. A woman stood talking on her cell phone, a little boy had his nose pressed against a large glass window as he ogled the large planes. Her eyes continued skimming the scene, not finding anything of any real note. Except…her eyes swiveled back to a man reading the newspaper.

There was nothing unusual about someone reading the paper; it was actually a fairly common sight in the airport. The man had seemed like any other person waiting for his flight. At least, until she noticed that the toes of his bare feet were curled around the edge of his seat as he held the paper pinched between his forefinger and thumb. Just as she began making her way towards him, everything went black, the lights all simultaneously blinking out with a soft click. The instant the terminal was plunged into darkness the air was filled with shrieks of terror and frantic movement.

"Everyone, please stay calm!" Lainie shouted, attempting to calm the unseen crowd. Her effort was to no avail, however. The recent terrorist attack had everyone thoroughly spooked at the mere thought of anything even remotely resembling a terrorist threat.

Just when Lainie had given up all hope of finding Techno's clue in the pitch-black pandemonium, a faint light sprang to life over one of the scattered desks. A dimly lit flight board quickly became the center of attention of every person in the room, its yellowish, illuminated letters providing the only source of light for the panicked travelers.

Lainie's eyes traced every aspect of the glowing flight schedule, quickly latching onto the departure and arrival times. They were the same, every single one of them. Each and every flight projected the same time: 6:30 pm.

Her mind reeled. That was only twenty-five minutes away and she still had no idea where her next destination was supposed to be! She was going to lose this round. Whether it be a loss against Techno or L, she was still sunk. Even as that bleak thought crossed her mind, the final piece of the clue broadcast itself to everyone in the room.

The PA system suddenly crackled to life, startling many of those who were standing near the speakers. It wasn't an emergency announcement that came floating from the speakers, however. A soft, eerie melody piped outwards, sending a chill down Lainie's spine. It took several precious moments before she realized just what she was hearing. It was a highly distorted version of 'London Bridge is Falling Down.' The track began repeating after it finished its first loop, but Lainie was already working on fighting her way out of the darkened and crowded airport.

Five grueling minutes of pushing and shoving later and Lainie stood outside, panting after forcing her way through the tightly packed crowd. She was left with just twenty minutes to navigate the busy streets of London and reach the London Bridge. She raced for her illegally parked car and punched Director Wellington's number into her cell phone. "Talk to me," rumbled the deep voice of the MPS director as she vaulted into the black company car. "He's targeting the London Bridge. We've only got twenty minutes. I'm on the move and should beat him there."

"Quinn, we don't know what else this madman is capable of. I'll get hold of Kingsley and Jameson and they can meet you there. Don't go rushing into anything on your own."

"There's no time to wait, Director. You can call them, but they'll never get there in time," she argued, shoving the keys in the ignition. "I'm leaving. Now." She snapped her phone shut and slammed her foot on the gas, pealing out of the airport with a squeal of tires.

Lainie mentally cursed the lack of punch in the black car as she floored it trying to skirt around traffic. She sorely missed her suped up sports car and was having a difficult time zipping in and out of traffic in this boat the MPS had labeled a car. Time was of the essence and, with that thought foremost in her mind, Lainie deemed it acceptable to completely ignore any traffic regulations that would only serve to slow her down. She blew through two red lights and five stop signs amid furious honking from the other people on the road.

Red brake lights glared alarmingly close, jerking Lainie out of her mental haze as she swerved to avoid causing a ten car pile-up. The tires squealed as she slammed down on the brakes, the car lurching heavily as she threw it into park before it had even stopped moving. She quickly exited the car and took off in the direction of the famous bridge, ignoring the stares of people causing gaper-block as she sprinted along the shoulder of the road. She could see the dark outline of the London landmark against the light polluted sky and urged herself forward, far exceeding any expectations she had for her physical capabilities.

The only things reassuring her that this breakneck run wasn't part of some twisted dream were the burning in her lungs and legs and the occasional cold bite of the small handgun against her thigh as she pumped her arms in rhythm with her legs. She picked up her pace, mentally swearing to give up smoking for good if she managed to catch Techno at the London Bridge.

Lainie skidded to a stop when she reached the control room atop the bridge. The bridge was down, the lights around it dark, obscuring it from view. A small boat loaded with highly flammable oil barrels was speeding along the river, completely unaware of the obstruction in its path. If it plowed into the lowered bridge, the oil barrels were sure to go up in flames, causing mass carnage not only on the waterway, but also in the surroundings areas as well.

Lainie whipped around and rushed into the control booth, eyes locked on the control panel for the bridge. So intent was she upon her goal that she failed to notice the well-hidden obstruction in her path and fell headlong over it, groaning in pain as something very solid came into contact with her abdomen. That was definitely going to leave a mark.

Now that she was considerably lower to the ground, albeit hunched over in pain, a faint clicking caught her attention. Someone was crouched in the shadows, fiddling with the controls to raise and lower the bridge. The man turned to look at her guiltily as she approached him on all fours. His already wide eyes became impossibly round in what she was sure was shock at being apprehended. That thought flew out of her mind a moment later, propelled outward as something very heavy and very painful crashed into the back of her head.

The already dark control booth went black as she pitched forward, her last thoughts scrambled by the surprise attack.


	6. Chapter 6

**[AN] I'm alive after a four year absence! Is anyone even going to read this? Who knows. If you're picking this up after my absence, I've updated all of the previous chapters, particularly 3, so I'd check those out. But look, I drew you a picture as a peace offering! art/Lainie-312218689 [/AN]**

Dim light. A dull throbbing in the back of her head. Soft snoring. A light pressure on her left hand.

This was definitely not the London Bridge, but where was she? The last thing that Lainie remembered was seeing him fiddling with the controls on the bridge and then everything went black. From the throbbing in her skull, she could only assume that someone had given her quite the blow to the back of the head. But what had happened at the bridge? Had he managed to raise it before the loaded barge blew everything sky high?

She ventured opening her eyes just a slit and peering curiously at her surroundings. Plain white walls, a darkened TV and an IV drip attached to her left hand. She twisted her head to the right, stopping halfway as she let out a groan of pain at the sudden movement.

The soft click of heels brought a nurse to her side. "You're finally up, are you? How's your head feeling then?" she asked, busying herself by checking Lainie's vitals.

"My head's a bit woozy," Lainie admitted. "What happened? How long was I out?"

"Only a few hours, miss. You took a nasty hit to the head. They were worried you might have a concussion."

"They?" I asked, struggling to remember what had occurred and how I had wound up in the hospital.

"The gents that brought you in here. They was a wreck, they was. They'll be glad to know you've come round."

Lainie's mind was racing. That had to be Kingsley and Jameson. And when Director Wellington found out that she had ignored his order to wait for back up...

The bang of the door slamming open broke Lainie's train of thought.

"Sir," the nurse cried, "you can't be in here! Miss Quinn is still recovering and-"

"Out!" he barked, causing Lainie to flinch as she recognized Wellington's voice. "Quinn, just what the bloody hell did you think you were doing?" he roared. "I specifically told you to wait for back-up, and what did you do? Disobeyed a direct order and rushed in like a rookie! If you hadn't managed to raise the bridge, you would have been blown sky high along with everything else in the immediate area."

"The bridge...didn't blow up?" Lainie asked, still trying to process everything her boss had said.

"No, that was the one positive to your little stunt. But from this point forward, Quinn, you're off the case. It's for your own good."

"Director, you can't!" Lainie protested, a cry of pain escaping her lips as she struggled to sit up. Her cries fell on deaf ears as the Director turned towards the door.

"You can resume your regular work once this whole thing has blown over." With that, he was gone.

The door opened a second time as Kingsley and Jameson entered the room. It was obvious from their body language that they had heard Wellington's dismissal of their companion from the case, but neither was willing to be the one to bring it up.

"Thanks for saving me," Lainie finally managed, fighting to keep her voice under control.

"You're our partner, Quinn," Jameson said. "No thanks are necessary."

"Was. I _was _your partner."

"Lainie, you've done more to further this case than the rest of us combined," Kingsley said, taking a seat by her bedside. "No matter what Wellington says, you're still our partner."

"I appreciate that sentiment, Kingsley, but-"

"Blake." Kingsley reached out to grip Lainie's free hand. "I would rather that you call me Blake." A faint blush crept up the red-head's cheeks at the proclamation.

"I'll just give you two a moment then," Jameson said, excusing himself from the room.

"Lainie, what's going on? I didn't want to say anything in front of the Director or Jameson, but you have me really worried. I was willing to pass it off as an overzealous work ethic before, but this is just too much."

"It's all my fault," she murmured, a lone tear tracing its way down her cheek.

"We're just as much to blame as you are! If Jameson or I had been any help in decoding the last message-"

"I just wanted to prove that I was as good as L; that I could go toe to toe with him and hold my own." She continued on as if she hadn't even heard Kingsley. "I never thought that this would happen. It wasn't supposed to turn out like this! But now everything's going to hell and it's all my fault. If I hadn't been so ambitious-"

"Then we wouldn't have made it past Techno's first clue," Kingsley said, cutting her off midsentence.

"You don't understand," Lainie replied sadly. "No one does."

The nurse reentered the room, effectively halting any further discussion about the case. "I'm terribly sorry, but visiting hours are over. I'm going to have to ask you to leave, sir." She gave Kingsley an apologetic smile as she held the door open for him.

"It's fine," Kingsley said, standing up from his seat by the bed. "I should get back to headquarters anyway." He bent to give Lainie a brief kiss on the forehead before making his way to the door. "I'll be back tomorrow to take you home, Lainie. Get some rest."

Once he had left, the nurse bustled about, making sure that everything was in order for the night. "If you need anything, miss, just press the call button right here," she indicated a small buzzer attached to the wall next to the bed. "Rest up!" With that, the nurse disappeared from the room, leaving Lainie alone in the small while room.

* * *

A soft shuffling sound broke Lainie out of an uneasy sleep, eyes scanning the room to locate the source of the sound.

Shadowed eyes. Unkempt black hair. Bare toes curled around the edge of his chair.

"So I'm finally face to face with the great L," Lainie cooed. "What an honor."

He continued to stare, not betraying a thing.

"But do tell," she persisted, "what made you decide to show yourself? It's not every day that you personally step out to tackle a case."

Silence.

"Don't you even want to know how I knew?" Lainie asked, obviously eager to show off her own skills to the world famous detective.

"Not particularly," he finally replied.

"You were at every single location that I staked out and never went near Jameson and Kingsley," she explained, ignoring his answer. "You were never surprised by the information we gave you because you had surveillance cameras installed in my flat. Moreover, the woman who installed them was wanted in the U.S. several years ago for jewel theft among other things, but was never apprehended." Her mind flashed back to the images she had managed to extract from Techno's planted cameras. "You're the only person in the world who could call up underworld connections like that."

"Fascinating," he said, his tone stating that he found it anything but. "But what I'm really interested in is how, exactly, you're involved in this case, Miss Quinn. Perhaps you'd care to explain, starting from the very beginning."

Lainie let out a long breath, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat. She had no choice but to answer, really. She was hooked up to hospital machinery, making escape impossible, and it's not like L would have let her get very far anyway. Her earlier bravado disappeared as she began her tale. It was going to be a long night.


	7. Chapter 7

**[AN] Sorry about the wait. Life decided to assert itself and I got a bit preoccupied with that. On another note, I still stink at writing endings. Thanks for reading and sticking with it! [/AN]**

* * *

A nurse quietly opened the door to check on her first charge of the day, smiling brightly as she took in the sunlight streaming in through the open window. The bed was empty, but that was no cause for alarm as it was highly likely that the patient had simply needed to use the lavatory. She stepped to labeled door and knocked, smile faltering at the lack of response. She knocked again. "Miss Quinn, are you in there? I just need to check your vitals before we can release you." Silence. The door swung open under the nurse's hand, revealing an ordinary, albeit empty, toilet. The nurse, fighting back a wave of panic, rushed to the patient's empty bed. The hospital gown she had been wearing the night before lay in a crumpled heap, the IV hung limply suspended from its rack. A quick inspection of the drawers showed the detective's suit and personal effects to be missing, as well.

Her clipboard fell to the floor with a clatter as she rushed from the room, heels clicking a frantic cadence as she hurried to the main desk. A tall, dark-haired man was arguing with the nurse in charge as she almost crashed into the desk. "The patient...Miss Quinn...missing," she gasped, trying desperately to catch her breath. Her barely audible proclamation brought the disagreement to an immediate halt and caught the attention of a blond man who had been lounging in the waiting area.

"What do you mean she's missing?" the dark-haired man demanded, rounding on the newly arrived nurse.

"Mr. Kingsley, I really must insist that you calm yourself!" the nurse he had been arguing with countered.

"Calm? How the bloody hell do you expect me to remain calm when you've lost my partner?!"

"Really, Kingsley, having a go-round in the hospital isn't going to find Quinn any sooner," Jameson interjected, stepping up to join the group at the desk. The blond man held up a hand to stifle Kingsley's hot retort as his cell phone began ringing in his pocket. His face paled as he quickly pulled Kingsley away from the desk and switched it to speaker-phone.

"Greetings, detectives," said the highly distorted voice that they had come to associate with L. "As I am sure that you have by now noticed, Detective Quinn is no longer in her hospital room."

"What do you know about Lainie?" Kingsley demanded.

"Detective Quinn is currently tracking Techno at my behest. Should you wish to find her, and Techno, then I would urge you to hasten to the BBC Building before it is too late."

With that cryptic warning, the line went dead, leaving Kingsley and Jameson standing with varying degrees of shock on their faces.

"Do you think we should call Director Wellington?" Jameson finally asked.

Kingsley was silent for a few moments before answering. "No...if he finds out that Lainie disregarded his orders again, he'll give her the boot for good. I think the best thing we can do now is try to find her before anything happens."

"Fine," Jameson nodded. The man had already moved to gather their belongings, having anticipated his colleague's answer. "But I hope you realize that if anything goes awry, all three of us can kiss our jobs goodbye." Kingsley's only response was a curt nod before setting a purposeful stride towards the hospital's exit.

* * *

Lainie pressed her slender frame against the side of the building, pausing to catch her breath. Disappearing unnoticed from the hospital had been a bit more difficult than she had anticipated, thanks to some surprisingly sophisticated surveillance technology on their part. Making sure that they had no record of her exit had been an unanticipated speed bump and had cost her valuable time. While her escape had been a bit problematic, the most delicate bit was yet to come. Hey eyes travelled upward to take in the structure across the street; namely, the BBC Building. Getting out of the hospital had been tricky, but getting into the BBC's main broadcasting room without causing a panic was going to take much more careful maneuvering. Lainie took a final deep breath before she straightened her jacket and approached the large building.

The lobby was bustling with activity as Lainie stepped through the heavy doors; secretaries were answering calls, assistants ran to-and-fro with arms full of paper and steaming cups of coffee, elevator doors slid open and closed with quiet hisses. "Excuse me, ma'am, could you please direct me to the main broadcasting studio?" Lainie asked, stepping up to the nearest available counter.

"Broadcast rooms are restricted from public access," the woman replied, not bothering to remove her bored look from her computer screen. "If you'd like a tour, you can sign up over there." She indicated a booth in the corner partially obscured by a small group of people.

"Thank you for your help," Lainie said, biting back her caustic reply. The goal here was to be as low-key as possible, and causing a scene with an uncooperative receptionist wasn't going to help that. Lainie quickly made her way to the tour booth and scrawled her name across the proffered clipboard. Slipping away from the tour group once they were near the broadcast studios shouldn't present much difficulty.

"Right this way, please!" A young woman had stepped from behind the booth and began ushering the tour group towards the center of the lobby. She launched into her scripted spiel as the group slowly made their way towards the large elevators at the back of the room. The informative blather continued as the group crowded into the elevator and eventually stepped out into a long hallway. "And here we have our broadcasting studios! I'm afraid that we can't let you in at the moment, but please don't hesitate to ask any questions you may have as we pass."

Lainie slowed her steps as the group continued to a viewing window and slipped quietly into a nearby washroom as they ogled some bit of broadcasting equipment. She waited what she deemed an appropriate amount of time before venturing back out into the hallway, peeking her head around the doorframe to make sure that the tour group had completely moved on. Once she had affirmed that they had indeed left, she crept forward until she stood before the door to the largest of the broadcasting studios. The door swung open at her touch, beckoning her into the dimly lit room. The faint glow of computer screens illuminated the room with a dull blue light, casting eerie shadows as Lainie surveyed her surroundings. The studio was, at first glance, empty, but the sound of clacking keys gave its occupant away.

"I know you're here, Techno. Raise both hands above your head and step out where I can see you."

The clicking stopped for the briefest of moments before resuming again at an increased speed. "I really am sorry about that nasty hit to the head I gave you." The voice was raspy, as if he weren't accustomed to talking.

"Why, Tech?" Lainie asked. "Why did you do it?"

"Well you didn't exactly leave me much choice. Showing up at the bridge like that and-"

"Not that!" Lainie interjected. "The planes...everything! None of this was supposed to happen!"

"I just raised the stakes a little. I thought it would make things better for the both of us. I can't be entirely to blame here. After all, Lute, you were the mastermind behind this."

Lainie's gun shook in her hand as she continued to scan the room. If she could just keep him talking, she could follow the sound of his voice to wherever he was hiding. "None of that was ever part of the plan, Tech. You were just supposed to hijack the planes long enough to grab L's attention. I would have come to the rescue, finally getting the recognition I deserved, you would gain notoriety and mysteriously disappear and everything would be finished."

Techno let out a low laugh. "Poor little Lute. That may have been enough for you, but I wasn't content to fade into the shadows. What better way for the world to recognize my genius than to have the populace cowering at my feet! You were thinking small time. All you ever wanted was for L to notice you. But I...I craved so much more. The entire world knows and fears my name!"

A shrill alarm blared to life, accompanied by a flashing red light. Their sudden appearance were the perfect accompaniment to the maniacal laughter echoing from the furthest corner of the room.

"You've gone mad, Tech," Lainie said, quietly inching towards where his voice had issued from. "You sacrificed hundreds of innocent lives, just for the sake of your own ego! That's sick!"

The door to the broadcasting room flew open with a bang as Jameson and Kingsley barreled into the room, guns leveled in front of them. "Come out where we can see you, hands in the air!" Kingsley barked, training his gun on the corner Lainie was facing.

"So this is how it ends?" Techno rasped. "But I have one last challenge for you."

"We're through deciphering your bloody riddles," Jameson growled, advancing towards their target.

"Oh no. No more riddles. But my finger is poised to release the most potent virus to ever hit the web. Even if you shoot me, it will be unleashed, effectively crashing every computer system across the globe. If you thought my first aerial display was grand, just wait until you see the fireworks caused when this goes global. So what will it be, detectives? Will you catch me at the risk of endangering innocent people, or let me disappear and save their lives?"

A tense silence settled over the room. Techno was finally in their grasp, but were they willing to sacrifice countless lives to apprehend him?

"We can't-"

The rest of Kingsley's sentence was cut short by the roar of a handgun.

"Quinn, what have you done?!" Jameson cried.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry." Lainie's body shook as a silent stream of tears began making its way down her cheeks.

Jameson ran to inspect the damage as Kingsley gathered a sobbing Lainie into his arms. "All clear," Jameson announced a few moments later. "She shot the computer. Whatever virus he was trying to spread is gone." He granted the red-head a grudging nod as he dragged an un-protesting Techno out into the open. "I'll phone Director Wellington and tell him that this nightmare is finally over."

* * *

Once the Techno case had drawn to a close, things slowly began to return to normal at the Metropolitan Police Service. L disappeared back into the shadows, but not before commending the three officers who had been vital in the terrorist's capture. The three were promoted within the MPS and lauded by their peers. Lainie Quinn resigned from the force immediately following her promotion, citing lingering trauma from the Techno case as her reason for leaving. She began work as a technical analyst for several large companies and finally pursued her burgeoning relationship with Blake Kingsley. As time passed, she slowly began to carve out a new life: one devoted to her own happiness, rather than chasing after her childhood hero's shadow.


End file.
